


Polyjuice Mishap

by cheyla



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Creature Fic, Demi-romance, Friends to Lovers, Gender or Sex Swap, M/M, Polyjuice Potion, Post-Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-09 09:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4343735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheyla/pseuds/cheyla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sick of having people notice him wherever he goes, Harry takes to using Polyjuice Potion to avoid running into problems. However, he's Harry Potter and he can't avoid problems. He just creates them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

There was a reason why people shouldn't make potions unsupervised, especially when they didn't have a mastery in the area. There were unlimited opportunities for things to go wrong.

Harry Potter looked at himself in the mirror, silently dismayed about the situation he was now in. It had been a bad idea to brew the Polyjuice without Hermione around to make sure that nothing went wrong, he now realized. Even more so without telling anyone about what he was doing.

Out of habit, Harry ran his hand through his hair and his frown deepened when his fingers got caught in what was now curly shoulder-length brown hair.

The Boy-Who-Lived glanced at his reflection and sighed when he found a feminine form still in the mirror. He had just wanted to brew some more Polyjuice because his supply was about to run out and the Ministry of Magic would eventually grow suspicious of his constant bulk orders of the potion. How was he supposed to know that something would go wrong and he would be stuck in this form?

Ah, that's right. Because he was Harry Potter and something always went wrong when he was involved in anything.

Now he was looked like a random British witch, who's hair he had picked off of his robes from his last trip to Diagon Alley for Morgana knows how long. Already the potion had lasted overnight and Harry didn't know if he would ever change back into his normal body.

If he was anyone else, he could go to St. Mungo's and get this sorted out but since he was Harry Potter, that was not an option. The press would learn about his situation within hours and he would have to come up with another plan so he could run his errands without being bothered.

Harry sighed and looked at his new form in the mirror. He might as well try and get used to it until he could solve this problem.

His hair was a dark brown and it was unbelievably curly. When he moved, he swore that the curls actually bounced—or tangled even further. If he thought his hair was a problem earlier, it was nothing compared to what it was now. His eyes were a dark brown as well, though an occasional flash of amber or green sparkled in the sunlight. His skin was extremely dark and clear of any blemishes, aside from a faint mark on his abdomen. It almost looked like someone had cut into the abdomen for some type of procedure.

Harry's stomach rumbled and the transformed man realized that it had been a few hours since he had eaten last. A quick rummage through the cupboards and pantry revealed that there was nothing meal worthy in the flat. He would have to go out to eat.

Cursing his luck, Harry searched for something to wear. There was a small Chinese restaurant down the street but it was a Muggle restaurant. Usually when the hair he had picked up was a woman, he would go out into the wizarding world where he could wear robes. He didn't want to deal with that today.

With a sigh, Harry threw on his smallest sweatshirt and went searching for a pair of jeans he was sure Ginny had left behind the last time she had stayed over. When he had found the jeans, they were a bit tight and short but it was better than nothing.

Harry wished that Ginny had left behind some other clothes—he didn't appreciate having to go without underwear and the breasts he now had to deal with were on the large side so a bra would have been nice—but usually when Ginny visited, she wasn't wearing those items. Harry would just have to put up with it for less than an half an hour, since he didn't think it would take that long for him to eat or get a carry-out.

Harry ate lunch quickly, wanting to get back to his flat so he could contact someone for help. The food wasn't particularly appetizing—too fried and saucy for his new body's tastes—but it was better than nothing. When he finished and paid for his food, Harry eagerly left the restaurant, wanting to get back to his sanctuary. However, as soon as he stepped foot outside the restaurant, he felt a hand grip the back of his neck tightly and a series of privacy wards go up around him and his ambusher.

"What the bloody hell have you been thinking?" he heard a distinctly male voice hiss. "I've been worried sick, trying to find you before Leanne's next feeding."

"You've made a mistake," Harry growled, trying to fight the grip on his neck and break free. It was futile in this form. He felt too weak.

"Don't be ridiculous. You might be dressed sloppier than normal but that's no disguise. I'm very able to recognize my own mate and wife, Rose, despite what you may think."

"I'm not Rose," Harry protested, mind racing. "I just look like her because of the Polyjuice Potion that I took."

The person dragging him away stopped for a minute and Harry too the opportunity to wrap his hands around the wrist of the hand gripping his beck and trying to push it away, to no avail. Instead, the grip just tightened. Against what his mind was screaming for him to do, Harry felt his body going limp and his mannerisms becoming more docile.

"Say that again," the man demanded.

"I'm not Rose," Harry repeated. "I just look like her because of the Polyjuice Potion."

"When did you take the dose?" the man inquired, voice harsh but seeming to believe what Harry was saying.

"Yesterday, around three in the afternoon. Something went wrong, though, and I haven't changed back."

"And how did you get my Rose's hair? Why hers?"

"I didn't know who's it was. I just needed to go out without someone recognizing me and her hair had gotten on my clothes. It wasn't planned and it wasn't for anything malicious. I swear."

As Harry struggled weakly to break free, he heard his ambusher take a deep breath.

"Here's the plan then," the man decided. "You're going to come home with me, feed Leanne, and be there for every future feeding until I find the real Rose. I have Polyjuice Potion and her hair for you to use if necessary, but I doubt it will be. In return for your help in that matter, I'll make sure that you won't go to Azkaban for posing as someone else without their knowledge and consent. Are we agreed?"

"Yes," Harry said, unable to nod. Anything to get the man to let go and to not go to Azkaban. He knew that it had been a risk when he had started using the Polyjuice Potion but it had been one that he had been willing to take. Now that he was caught, he couldn't risk going to Azkaban. If the imprisoned Death Eaters learned he was Harry Potter, he would be dead within the day. "Who's Leanne, though? And why does Rose need to feed her specifically?"

His questions weren't answered as the man instead decided to apparate away, much to Harry's dismay. When they reached their destination, Harry was sure that the only reason he had remained standing was because of the grip on his neck.

"Leanne is my daughter," the man said, letting go. Harry rubbed his neck in relief and spun around to face the man. He blinked in surprise when he realized who it was. He hadn't seen this man since his Hogwarts days.

"Rose isn't a normal witch. She has creature blood in her, which is why you haven't changed back yet. Polyjuice Potion is meant to be used with the hair of a witch, wizard, or muggle. Any other type of being and the change back becomes delayed or it doesn't take place, leaving the user stuck in the form they copied. Leanne shares Rose's creature blood and because of that, she doesn't drink her mother's milk. She drinks her mother's blood."

Harry made an appalled noise in the back of his throat as he stared at Blaise Zabini. The man glared at him but Harry didn't regret his reaction. It was a totally normal one, after all.

"Blood?" he questioned. Zabini nodded, crossing his arms and continuing to glare down at Harry.

"Leanne's feeding is in an hour, so you have an hour to get used to the idea," Zabini stated. "Then we'll talk more."


	2. Chapter 2

Harry wasn't given an opportunity to respond as the taller wizard led him to a small, darkened room. After blinking a few times, Harry realized it was a nursery. Harry hesitated for a few seconds before he stepped into the room to look at the baby he was now supposed to feed. Leanne, she had been called. Even from a distance, Harry could tell that the name suited her.

"Where does she feed from?" Harry asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the sleeping infant. Zabini shrugged.

"I don't know," the former Slytherin admitted. "Rose never let me see a feeding."

Great. That probably meant that Rose fed from an intimate location, like the breast. Harry was beginning to regret his decision.

Harry's surprise and reluctance must have shown on his face because Zabini gave a humorless chuckle.

"We don't have the best relationship, which should be obvious by now."

"I can't imagine why, especially if you go around dragging her around by the back of the neck like you did with me."

Zabini bristled at the comment.

"That was the first time I ever touched her body in such a manner," he snarled in a low voice. "And that was only because she would risk Leanne's life with her foolishness. I normally don't care what she does until it endangers Leanne."

"Why don't you tell me the story of your relationship and about Rose?" Harry suggested. "If I'm going to be her until you find the real Rose, I should probably know as much as I can."

"And how do I know you won't tell others this personal information?" Zabini demanded. "Or tell the Ministry?"

Harry blinked, wondering how the Ministry had come up. Then he remembered Zabini's comment about Rose and Leanne having creature blood. It wouldn't be a stretch to think that Zabini might have that same creature blood or that the Ministry would hunt them down if they found out.

"The Ministry has posed dangers to me in the past," Harry said. "I wouldn't tell them anything that would make them dangerous to others. And once this situation has been resolved, I'll gladly make a vow not to reveal anything to anyone else."

"I'm holding you to that," Zabini growled. "An Unbreakable Vow, at that." Harry nodded and watched him with an expectant look, wanting to learn more about the person he was impersonating.

"It wasn't anything special," Zabini said. "Rose and I met after I graduated Hogwarts at my mother's ninth wedding. We had a one night stand and she ended up pregnant. As soon as her parents found out, we were married and officially mated within the week. A few weeks later, Rose miscarried. You wouldn't have been able to tell though, since all she wanted to do was go out with friends or party all the time. There was no hint she had lost a child.

"I was fine with it until she got pregnant the second time and then I tried to get her to calm down, to no avail. There was a second miscarriage, which was when we started fighting. I wanted to settle down and have the family it seemed like the world wanted us to have while she wanted to act like she had no responsibilities. We never loved each other but that was when we started to really resent our situation.

"Then she fell pregnant a third time and, with the help of family watching her when I couldn't, she gave birth to Leanne about a month ago. She disappeared after Leanne's feeding yesterday, making it clear that she had no intention of coming back. I went to find her only to make sure Leanne survived and found an imposter instead. Once Leanne can survive without Rose's blood, I had planned to file for a divorce and attempt to gain full custody. Divorce might be shameful but I won't have her around my daughter any longer than needed. Leanne won't die while she's under my protection, even if that means taking her away from the woman who gave birth to her."

Harry blinked at the passion in Blaise Zabini's voice.

"You have the potential to be a good father," he informed the wizard. Zabini growled.

"Just the potential?" he hissed. Harry shrugged.

"You have a bit of a temper," he said. "Though I can't really say anything since I have one as well. If you just work on that and stop being so protective, you'll be a great father when she gets older."

Blaise opened his mouth to reply but a whimper from the crib drew his attention.

"She's awake," he said, looking slightly stricken. "It's early."

"It's a good thing I'm here then," Harry said and carefully picked up the infant girl. He was used to handling babies after watching Teddy and Victoire a few afternoons. Trying to work off of instinct and not think about what he was doing, Harry passed Leanne to Blaise and rolled up a sleeve. He had spotted a small kit near the crib as he had been listening to Zabini's story and assumed it was something Rose used to feed Leanne.

Inside the feeding kit was a needle attached to a small vial and a syringe on the other end of the vial. After struggling a few times, Harry was able to slip the needle into a vein and fill the vial. So Leanne didn't feed at the breast, a fact that made him insanely happy.

Once the vial was filled, Harry tilted it upside down and used the syringe part to drip the blood down the baby Leanne's throat. After four more times of repeating the process, the infant's whimpering stopped and her eyes fluttered closed. As she went back to sleep, Harry let out a breath. That had gone easier than expected.

"How often does she feed?" he asked Zabini.

"Ob blood? Just once a day, always at this time. She feeds on formula a few more times throughout the day."

"And what about changing her diapers?" Harry asked. Zabini's answer surprised him.

"Don't worry about that. Among the Kyth, the males are responsible for caring for the children, other than the blood feedings. The women rarely have anything to do with them until the children can walk and talk."

Harry nearly snorted. He couldn't believe that Blaise Zabini regularly changed diapers while his wife did nothing. It seemed backwards.

"Something funny?" Zabini growled. Harry guided the wizard's arms to put Leanne back in her crib as he thought of an explanation.

"I think the absurdity of this situation is starting to reveal itself to me," he admitted. "Only I could get myself into a situation like this."

"I don't think it's amusing," the former Slytherin stated flatly. Harry sighed.

"This is my way of coping," he snapped. "Unless you want me to panic or become hysterical?"

He didn't get a response.

"Don't you need to find Rose?" Harry asked after a few minutes of silence. Blaise Zabini sighed.

"I will once I've shown you to your rooms. You can stay there until I get back." It seemed more like an order than a suggestion.

"What if Leanne wakes up while you're gone?" Harry questioned, glancing at the infant in concern.

"A house-elf will look after her and fetch me if anything happens. Unless I get any leads, I won't be gone for more than a few hours."

Harry didn't agree with the plan but he knew that there was no way Zabini would trust him around Leanne without supervision.

"I hope you find her," he said as Zabini led him out of the nursery. The wizard scowled in return. "Don't get me wrong," Harry said quickly. "I hope you find her so you can give her the lecture of the lifetime. No one should abandon their child, especially when they know that their child would die without them."

"Here are your rooms," Zabini announced a minute later. "Do me a favor and don't wander around. I can tell that you're the type of person that gets curious easily and ends up sticking your nose where it doesn't belong.

Harry bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying the retort on his lips.

"I'm not going to make any promises," he said instead, earning himself another glare. Harry smiled in a fake sweet manner before stepping inside the lavish rooms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone that's interested, I've created a Facebook page, where I'll be posting not only my updates, but also questions, polls, statuses about my writing, update schedules, milestones, new story ideas, and basically anything writing related I feel like posting. I would love to interact with my readers so feel free to post on the page. Search Cheyla in the Facebook search bar and you should be able to find it. The page's profile picture is a black and white baby dragon so you know you've found the right page.


	3. Chapter 3

The rooms he was led to looked like the master suite to Harry but it wouldn't have surprised him if this was just another guest room. Harry tried to recall everything that he knew about Blaise Zabini but it wasn't much.

Blaise Zabini had been a Slytherin in Harry's year. Harry had seen him hanging around Draco Malfoy a few times but he hadn't been the constant presence that Crabbe or Goyle had been. Zabini had been a member of the Slug Club and had been on the Slytherin Quidditch team as a chaser. Other than that and the rumors that Blaise's mother had been widowed seven or eight times and had been the sole benefactor of her husbands' extremely large estates, Harry hadn't heard a lot. Blaise Zabini was an unknown.

Despite Zabini's words, Harry poked around the room he was practically locked in. He found plenty of things that seemed to belong to Rose but had nothing that belonged to her husband. So the couple was already sleeping in separate rooms. Harry wondered how long ago that had started.

After Harry had thrown on underwear, a bra, and some pants that actually fit, he went in search for more information. Unfortunately for him, there was no information about the creatures that Rose and Leanne were. Kyth, had Blaise said? Harry had never heard of them. Then again, Harry probably hadn't heard of most creatures, especially the humanoid ones. They were taught about the more common ones, such as vampires, ghouls, banshees, and werewolves, but he supposed that the less common species were probably only taught to those who were pursuing a mastery in the subject.

More than a few hours had passed before Blaise came back. Unless a few hours in Zabini's words meant the entire night. Harry was starving as the sun rose and quivering with rage. No wonder Rose had left if her husband pulled stunts like this.

When Harry heard footsteps in the hallway outside the rooms he was in, he let his rage take over and he stormed into the hallway.

"What the bloody hell?" he snarled. Zabini blinked at him in faint surprise.

"What?" the Slytherin asked dully.

"You said you'd be back after a few hours. You said nothing about being gone the entire afternoon and night!"

"I said I would be back in a few hours unless I got a lead on Rose's whereabouts," Zabini reminded Harry.

"It better have been a fairly good lead," Harry snapped. Zabini sighed.

"I found Rose," he said.

"Where is she?" Harry asked, anger fading away at the revelation. He looked down the rest of the hallway but it was just him and Zabini.

"The morgue."

Harry blinked in shock, thinking he hadn't heard right. He peered closer at the former Slytherin, who suddenly seemed ten years older. Blaise's dark eyes were bloodshot from grief and exhaustion.

"What happened?" Harry asked quietly.

"She was apparating in an unfamiliar area and ended up apparating in front of a train," Blaise admitted. Harry couldn't stop the gasp that fell from his lips.

"What about Leanne? What's going to happen now?" Harry asked, looking down at his body. How was Zabini handling it, talking to the resemblance of his wife while knowing the actual Rose was lying dead in a morgue. It would mess with anyone's mind.

"I can't lose Leanne," Blaise croaked out. "She's everything to me."

"How long does she need to drink Rose's blood?" Harry asked, feeling what Hermione had dubbed as his hero complex kick in. He knew that there was no way he would leave as long as he could help.

"She's only a month old," Zabini whispered. "The daily feedings go until she turns six months old and then it's weekly feedings until she's a year old."

"And there's no way she could survive on your blood?" Harry asked. Blaise shook his head.

"Rose was a Kyth," he said. "It's a female only species. The men just carry the genes and take care of the children. Leanne might be able to survive off of my mother's or Rose's mother's blood but it's not a certainty and I would lose all of my parental rights and custody the moment I would turn her over for a feeding."

"If I could help, how would you explain my presence?" Harry questioned. "You made it sound like Rose's family has already been told of her death."

"The hospital sent a notice and I left a message but they're traveling, so there'll be a delay in getting the message. Enough that I could taking Leanne into hiding if…"

"If I would come with you to guarantee her survival," Harry finished.

"She cut her hair a few days ago," Blaise said. "To be trendy, she claimed. She kept it to donate it, since apparently that's now the popular thing to do. It wouldn't be hard to obtain Polyjuice and with her creature blood, each dose would last about a week."

"My friends and boss would kill me if I just disappeared," Harry stated. An angry but defeated look crossed Blaise's face but Harry held up a hand.

"I didn't say I wouldn't come," he said. "As long as you're aware that if the Polyjuice wears off, I'll be changing back into a man."

"I already guessed," Blaise admitted. "From your voice. It gets deeper the longer we talk."

"I'll need to collect a few things from my apartment and leave a note for my friends," Harry said. "They won't like it but they won't be very surprised. According to them, I have this thing about saving people."

"Gryffindor?" Blaise asked knowingly. Harry smirked and nodded.

"I'll take you back to your apartment," Blaise announced. "And I'll let you pack and get your things in order while I get Leanne's things ready and find someplace to go where we won't be found. It won't take more than an hour or two."

Harry nodded in understanding. That would be more than enough time for him. It had been four years since he had defeated Voldemort but he still hadn't lost the habit of being ready to leave at a moment's notice. It had proved beneficial more than a few times when Death Eaters or their families seeking revenge had targeted him. He mostly just needed to write a note for Ron and Hermione.

Once he had been dropped off, it took Harry all of ten minutes to ready his "go bag" and make sure it contained his important items, like a broom, his photo album, and a stash of emergency potions. He also included every single vial of Polyjuice Potion he owned or had brewed. It wasn't enough for a year but it would at least give them some time to brew other batches.

Penning the letter to his best friends was the hardest task. Harry didn't want to explain the situation but he also didn't want them to hunt him down.

_Ron and Hermione,_

_I had to leave for an undetermined amount of time to help out an acquaintance. I'd tell you where I'm going but I don't know where that is yet and there's a likelihood that we'll be moving around a lot. I'll try and get in contact when I can and I'll explain more once I'm back for good. However, that explanation may be a year or more off in the future. Trust me when I say don't worry. There's nothing life threatening involved this time._

_Try to feed Zoe and make sure she's safe._

Harry didn't bother to sign the note. He didn't want to risk anyone else getting their hands on his signature and using it for forgeries. He had learned that lesson the hard way.

For the next hour and a half, Harry lounged around the flat, making sure that nothing was out of place when he left. He left food and water on the balcony for Zoe, a pregnant cat that had taken to hanging around his flat. Harry had planned to take her in and make sure she had a safe place to give birth but now that wasn't an option. Hopefully Hermione would take her in now.

Blaise Zabini arrived exactly on the two-hour mark, Leanne sleeping in a carrycot at his side. At least that's what Harry assumed because there was a blanket-like object covering the carrycot.

"She can't be exposed to much light," Zabini explained at Harry's glance. "Are you ready?"

Harry set down his letter and nodded. Blaise watched him and gave a troubled frown when he made out the names on the envelope. Harry caught the frown and raised an eyebrow.

"Which Gryffindor are you?" Blaise demanded. "Are you Potter?"

Harry sighed. His secret was out.

"Yes, which is why I used Polyjuice and got into this situation. I got sick of being mobbed every time I stepped out of my door and even living in muggle London doesn't stop reporters from stalking me.

"Will Leanne be targeted?" Blaise demanded, shielding his daughter's carrycot from view.

"No one is even aware that I know you," Harry replied. "And I made it very clear in my note that I left willingly and didn't feel like I was in any danger, so if any connection is made, you won't be accused of kidnapping me. Once this is over, I'll even leave you and Leanne in peace and won't speak your names to anyone else."

"You're certain?" Zabini asked and Harry nodded. The young father suddenly snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Accepting help from Harry Potter. What has the world come to?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone that's interested, I've created a Facebook page, where I'll be posting not only my updates, but also questions, polls, statuses about my writing, update schedules, milestones, new story ideas, and basically anything writing related I feel like posting. I would love to interact with my readers so feel free to post on the page. Search Cheyla in the Facebook search bar and you should be able to find it. The page's profile picture is a black and white baby dragon so you know you've found the right page.


	4. Chapter 4

"I hope Leanne doesn't inherit either of her parents' personalities," Harry muttered as the other wizard pulled out a Portkey, "if she ever wants a chance at having people like her."

Blaise's retort was cut off by the Portkey activating. Harry groaned as he landed hard on his feet and nearly tipped forward, trying to ignore how Blaise had made the landing seem graceful and smooth.

"It's better that my daughter have sharp words and a sharp manner than being seen as a pushover," Blaise growled. "She was born to an unlucky lot in life and therefore will need to defend herself with anything she can."

"She's a month old," Harry pointed out. "Leave teaching her those opinions until she starts her schooling. Now where are we?"

"One of Professor Flitwick's safe havens," Blaise replied, looking around. "I'm not sure where exactly it is, though. I contacted him, explained the situation, and he provided me with a Portkey."

"Flitwick?" Harry asked in surprise. "Our old Charms professor?"

"He helps out students like me when he recognizes who we are. When the war came about, he offered many students safe havens to help use avoid family and societal pressures if we didn't want to join whatever side the rest of our kind supported. More often than not, it was Voldemort's side that they supported."

"I can't imagine you going to Professor Flitwick for help," Harry said.

"He was always a decent man," Blaise pointed out. "And he was always one of those few professors that was willing to support any student in the school, no matter what year or house. He's the closest person I ever came to trusting at Hogwarts."

The dark-skinned man walked away when he was finished speaking, leaving Harry to follow him inside the small house. The inside was dark but Blaise navigated it easily, finding the innermost room.

"This will be the nursery," he decided. "The windows will need black out drapes but this will be the warmest and darkest place in the house."

"I need more information about Leanne than just her feeding habits," Harry said. "I've babysat a few times but I've never actually care for a child for more than a few hours."

"You just need to feed her," Blaise said quickly. "Don't concern yourself with anything else. You may not feel like it but on the outside, you're a female Kyth and they aren't involved with childcare."

"That's not me and that's not fair to you," Harry replied. "I'll be here for a year for sure. I'm willing to do whatever I can to help out and that doesn't apply to only feeding Leanne. Take advantage of the help while you can."

Blaise hesitated but Harry could see him wavering. "I might look like Rose but I'm not actually her, which means I'm not actually a female Kyth. And unlike Rose, I wouldn't put all of the childcare responsibilities on someone else."

Blaise gave a wry smile. "You're a rare breed, Potter," he remarked. "Not many men are willing to stay in female form to care for a child they've never met before, especially not one with creature blood."

"I'm a Gryffindor," Harry replied. "And one with a hero complex. I inadvertently got myself into this situation and I'll see it out, no matter how long it takes." He stared at Blaise until he was sure that he had gotten his point across.

The rest of the day was spent putting the house in order. Harry was starting to learn the limitations of his new body, which apparently wasn't accustomed to being on its feet and walking around for most of the day.

"This is ridiculous," Harry growled as he collapsed in a chair as he waited for Leanne to wake up. The nursery was one of the first rooms Blaise and he had finished.

"Rose was a socialite when she wasn't partying," Blaise said. "Her days mostly consisted of having tea with other socialites while gossiping."

"She doesn't look like she's this out of shape," Harry grumbled. "Why doesn't she look worse?"

"Cosmetic spells and magical diets," Blaise replied. "She liked to look her best but she wouldn't go as far as to actually exercise."

Harry muttered indistinguishable insults under his breath. He was missing his old body.

When Leanne starting crying, Harry got to his feet, holding back a wince. He repeated the process from the day before, glad when things went a bit smoother today.

"Is it normal for babies to sleep so much?" he asked when Leanne went back to sleep almost immediately after being fed.

"Kyth children are a bit different than normal children," Blaise said. "The boys develop the same as any other child since they're merely carriers of the gene and not actually Kyth. The girls won't do much besides feed and sleep until they go on weekly feeds. Then they'll start to develop quickly. It's common for them to start speaking during the first week of weekly feeds, crawling by the end of the first month, and walking by the end of the second month. They'll enter the toddler states at a year and they're usually reading by age three or four. They'll age physically at the same rate. It's not uncommon for them to start schooling year or to skip a few years."

"So she'll basically turn into a superbaby and then a superchild," Harry stated. Blaise scowled and rolled his eyes at the clearly muggle term before leading Harry out of the nursery. "Is there any physical differences?"

"Like growing extra limbs or scales?" Blaise asked dryly. "The female Kyth will grow horns and a ridge of spikes along the spine when they become an adult—that's age twenty in case you were going to ask."

"I didn't notice those when I changed," Harry muttered.

"When wizards and witches take Polyjuice using a creature's hair, they rarely take on the physical creature form. One could use the hair of a werewolf but they wouldn't actually change into a werewolf on the full moon," Blaise explained. "Now come on. We should work on setting up our bedrooms."

Harry groaned at the thought of more work but he was secretly relieved to hear the word 'bedrooms' compared to 'bedroom'. He hadn't expected that they would sleep in the same room but it was nice to get some verbal confirmation.

"I brought some of Rose's old clothes," Blaise added, as he passed over a bag to Harry. "I figured that you wouldn't have anything that fit properly and it's not like we can go out shopping. Unless you made a habit of using Polyjuice to take on the form of a woman."

Harry glared at the other man.

"It wasn't a habit," he snapped. "I never really chose who I would take the form of. I would just find a hair somewhere and use that."

Blaise's noise crinkled. "That's so unhygienic," he remarked. Harry shrugged. He knew his use of Polyjuice wouldn't make sense to anyone but him. No one truly understood what he faced whenever he went into public as Harry Potter.

"Do you know how to brew an antidote for this type of situation?" Harry asked. "Is it even possible if you aren't a medi-wizard or if you haven't had the training? I highly doubt this is just going to wear off and I'd like to return to being Harry eventually."

"It's a series of potions," Blaise explained. "Taken over the space of a day. If you take them once a month and stay as Harry Potter for twelve hours at least, there shouldn't be any long-lasting side effects from using an altered Polyjuice."

"It took three or four days when Hermione accidentally used cat hair and she was coughing up fur balls for a week after."

"It takes longer when animal hair is used instead of creature hair. There's still some human DNA in creature hair, so the potions don't have to work as hard."

"And you know how to brew these potions?" Harry demanded. Blaise nodded.

"I've made it once before when one of Rose's witch friends decided she wanted to see what it was like to sleep with me and went the Polyjuice route."

"Did she succeed?" Harry asked. Blaise grimaced.

"Of course not, though Rose wished she had. It would have allowed her to divorce me."

"What tipped you off?" Harry inquired.

"It was after Roses' second miscarriage and we had fought the night before. I knew that there was no way she would want to be around me, let alone share a bed. It wasn't that hard to figure out, especially when I realized that her voice and mannerisms were off."

"And that's why you so easily accepted my explanation when we first me," Harry realized. Blaise nodded.

"These situations are more common than you think," he said. "Polyjuice may be difficult and time consuming for amateurs to brew but it's easy to obtain through purchase or trade. It's easy for wizards and witches who have failed their Potions Mastery exams to specialize in making potions and mass produce them for the public."

"Easy to accomplish or easy money?" Harry questioned. Blaise shrugged, which was answer enough.


	5. Chapter 5

They finished setting up the house around dinnertime. Leanne had woken up, ready for a milk feeding and a diaper change so while Blaise took care of that, Harry prepared something for them to eat. It was nothing special, just a bowl of spaghetti and pasta sauce but it was filling.

"Did you leave behind a job?" Harry asked Blaise as they ate. The wizard shook his head.

"Rose and I both came from money," he said. "Once Leanne was older and off to school, I would have taken over managing some of my mother's estates and businesses."

"Must be nice," Harry said. "Having such certainty in your life."

"Well, that's all gone for the next year," Blaise muttered. "What about you? What line of work did you end up in?"

Harry's cheeks reddened. He didn't mind his job but he didn't want to deal with the look of disdain he knew he was about to receive.

"A cook at a muggle restaurant," he said. As expected, Blaise glanced at him in faint horror of doing something he considered lower class.

"Why?"

Harry shrugged. "It kept me busy and I was able to stay out of sight of the customers for the most part. No one thinks of the person who cooks his or her food unless something goes wrong. I could have done without the long hours and a boss that constantly yelled, though."

"Not that it matters any more," Blaise remarked. Harry tilted his head in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"You can't really think that you'll be able to go back to that job after disappearing without saying anything for a year. I doubt any employer is  _that_  generous and would keep such an employee in their payroll."

Harry shrugged. "Positions like that are easy to find," he replied. "I could find something similar if I really wanted to. Who knows, though? A year is a long time. Anything could happen."

Blaise smirked in agreement. "Anything could happen," he said.

Over the next few days, Harry and Blaise found themselves settling into some sort of routine. They were beginning to realize that they found each other enjoyable, now that they didn't have the pressures of their school houses to deal with. Topics of conversation never seemed to run out, seeing as they had shared classes for seven years and had been a part of the Slug Club together. That was a good sign, seeing as all they could do was talk it seemed.

Harry hadn't really realized what a safe house had meant, since he had never stayed in one for more than a day or two. It took a few days before it began to hit him that there were certain geographical boundaries that he wouldn't be able to cross without putting Blaise and Leanne at risk. That meant no going into town, no shopping for groceries, no going to meet the neighbors, and no chance to communicate with anyone other than Blaise and his one month old daughter.

At least Harry could go outside. It was the only time he could really be alone, seeing as Blaise refused to leave the house. The former Slytherin had found his solitude in the house's cellar, so Harry had found his in the outside. The coming winter would be miserable, but Harry knew that if he really needed time alone, he would face the weather to come outside.

"Have you ever flown since Quidditch?" Harry asked, looking out the window wistfully. That was one thing about the wizarding world he truly missed. It wasn't like he could grab his broom and fly whenever he wanted in muggle London. There would be a few strange questions about that.

"Between Rose's first and second pregnancies, I joined a Quidditch club," Blaise said. "Nothing professional but it allowed me to get out and have some fun in a manner that didn't mean drinking or talking to strangers."

"There's Quidditch clubs?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow and turning his gaze back to the kitchen.

"Of course there is," Blaise replied. "Not everyone can or wants to play professionally and it's technically illegal to play in housing areas."

"That doesn't stop people," Harry muttered. "I played with the Weasleys at their home during many of my summers."

Blaise grinned. "It never stopped me either," he said. "It drove my mother mad whenever she caught me playing. She always thought someone would find out and the Ministry would come visit with a warning and find more than they expected."

Harry laughed and sat down next to Blaise at the small family table next to the kitchen. There were a few papers spread out across the table in front of the dark-skinned wizard.

"What are you working on?" he asked.

"Trying to write up a custody agreement over Leanne," Blaise replied, scratching out a line with his quill. "I have a feeling that when we return to the wizarding world, Rose's mother and father will want to try and get some custody over their granddaughter. They never fully approved of me and they'll want to make sure I'm raising her right. There's also the matter that Leanne will need another female Kyth in her life, to explain what I can't. Much of the information of our kind is passed on from mother to daughter."

"They won't try to take full custody of her, will they?" Harry asked. "I mean, they would have no reason to. Leanne won't need blood to survive anymore, so her life won't be at risk." Harry wasn't sure how Blaise would be able to handle an event such as Leanne being taken away. It had been obvious within hours that Leanne was his life and after a few days, it had become even more obvious.

"I have no idea," Blaise said. "They might, if they feel like I won't be able to handle raising her by myself. I'm hoping a partial custody agreement, willingly written up, will appease them and stop them from going for full custody."

"I'll vouch for you," Harry said readily, surprising even himself with how fast the response came. Blaise glanced up and paled, causing Harry to give him a look of confusion.

"What?" Harry asked.

"It seems the Polyjuice Potion has finally worn off," Blaise said. Harry glanced down and was surprised to see pale skin compared to the black skin he had been accustomed to over the past week. He hadn't felt the changes.

"That was painless," he muttered. Blaise rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"You're really Harry Potter," the other man said.

"You didn't believe me?" Harry asked with a glare. Blaise shrugged.

"It's just finally starting to hit me that Harry Potter of all people is sitting in my kitchen after having been a woman for a week and is willing to go through the process multiple times for the next year."

"Feel honored," Harry replied. "I wouldn't do this for just anyone."

"Yes, you would," Blaise said. "You would do anything for anyone if they gave you a good enough reason for it, especially if it resonated with your ridiculously strong morals."

Green eyes glared at the man next to him.

"I'm going to leave this room," Harry threatened. To his irritation, Blaise didn't even blink.

"Go ahead," he said. "Leanne's feeding is in—"

"Two hours," Harry finished. "I know."

"I'll pull out a dose of Polyjuice for you to take in an hour," Blaise said. "We should probably give it an hour to settle before you feed Leanne."

Harry nodded in agreement before storming into the living room.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, after Harry was well under the effects of the Polyjuice for another week, Professor Flitwick visited, much to their surprise.

"Professor Flitwick," Blaise said as the man entered the house, drawing Harry's attention to the front door and causing him to enter the kitchen. "What are you doing here?"

"Just stopping in for a visit," came a familiar voice. "I expect that you and your family is getting lonely with no one else to talk to."

"Weird family," Harry muttered, causing Blaise to glare at him. Professor Flitwick turned and eyed Rose's body in curiosity.

"Mr. Potter, is that really you?" he asked.

"The one and only," Harry remarked. "We confirmed my identity yesterday." Blaise snorted in amusement.

"I must say, you don't look like yourself," Professor Flitwick said. A grin forced its way onto Harry's lips.

"It's good to see you, Professor," he said.

Their old professor's visit did wonders for Harry and Blaise. They hadn't realized just how much they missed socializing with others, even for a few hours.

"Have you seen Ron or Hermione recently?" Harry asked, wondering how his friends reacted to his disappearance. Professor Flitwick nodded.

"They stopped in at Hogwarts the other day, to see if anyone had heard from you and to share the good news," he said.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "The good news?" he questioned.

"Ms. Granger—or Mrs. Weasley now, I suppose—informed us that she was expecting a child," came the answer. Harry blinked. And blinked. And blinked for a third time.

"What?" he asked, surprise coloring his voice. Blaise's question echoed his.

"Yes, isn't it wondrous news? In a few years, another Weasley will be attending Hogwarts, most likely carrying on their fine tradition of entering Gryffindor house."

"Dear Merlin," Blaise muttered, ignoring Harry's glare.

When Professor Flitwick left an hour later, Harry's curly head hit the kitchen table.

"Hermione's going to kill me," he muttered. "She said she had something to tell me but then I went and got myself into this situation before she could. Now I'm going to miss the birth of her first child."

"It's not that big of a deal," Blaise stated. "So you'll miss the birth and a handful of the early months. Infants don't do much for the first few months. You'll be around for all of the exciting things afterwards. Besides, it's not like you're the father, unless there's something you want to tell me."

Harry glared at his house partner.

"That's not amusing," he snapped. "And I would never do anything like that with Hermione. She's like my sister."

"So what's your type?" Blaise asked. "You obviously know mine." He gestured at Rose's body.

"What, bored socialites?" Harry asked with a snort. "I don't really have a type. Since Hogwarts, Ginny and I have been having an on-and-off thing."

"That's still a thing?" Blaise asked. "I thought she was too consumed by her Quidditch career for relationships."

"That's why it's nothing permanent," Harry replied. "We get together when she's in town with some time off and when she's out of town, I don't care what she does."

"And you've never considered trying things out with someone else?" Blaise asked. Harry shrugged.

"I haven't really been attracted to anyone," he said. "I like to get to know people first before I decide things like that. After all, how can I expect to share my life with someone if I don't know we can be friends first? A large part of marriage is enjoying your life with someone and that's a role friends have."

Blaise rolled his eyes. "Ridiculous," he muttered. "Absolutely ridiculous."

Harry grinned before he remembered Hermione and her condition. His grin turned into a panicked look.

"Hermione's going to kill me," he said. "Ron's probably freaking out by now and doesn't have me to calm him down. There's no telling what's going to happen if he doesn't have anyone to talk to."

"Weasley has five older brothers to talk to," Blaise remarked. "I'm sure he'll find someone."

"Four," Harry corrected. "He has only four now." Blaise looked stricken at his mistake. He attempted to apologize but Harry waved it off. He had had a few years to get used to the deaths of those who had died in the war. It still stung at times, but he was getting used to thinking about them without feeling guilty.

Before they knew it, a month had passed and it was time for Harry to take the series of potions that would return him to his male form for a few hours.

Blaise had been brewing the potions since late last night, making sure they were ready to be taken immediately after Leanne's blood feeding. Harry would spend the night and tomorrow morning in his actual body and right after lunch, he would take another batch of Polyjuice Potion to turn into Rose.

At least Harry only had to take the Polyjuice once a week, instead of every hour. He didn't think he would ever become accustomed to the taste, though essence of Rose tasted much better than the essence of Crabbe or Goyle.

Not by much, though.

Harry made sure Leanne was sleeping when he left her nursery after the blood feeding. He wish he knew her better but she didn't have much of a personality yet, seeing as all she did was sleep and eat and relieve herself. It had been a month and he had yet to see her awake for more than thirty minutes at a time.

In other circumstances, it would worry Harry but Blaise had assured him that it was completely normal.

"Ready?" Blaise asked as Harry entered the kitchen. The former Gryffindor smiled.

"Like you wouldn't believe," he replied.

With some alterations, Blaise had managed to make it so that it wouldn't take a full day for Harry to revert back into his normal body. Instead, it would take only three hours, which ended up being a potion an hour.

"How disgusting do these taste?" Harry asked as Blaise set the first flask in front of him. The other wizard shrugged.

"I couldn't tell you as I've never had to take them. I just make them for people in unfortunate situations."

"Lovely," Harry muttered before gulping down the contents of the flask. It took all of his self-control and willpower to not immediately spit it out. Once Harry managed to swallow the disgusting and slimy liquid, he gagged and shuddered. "Bloody hell, that's nasty."

"Did you expect it to taste like butterbeer when there's ground flobberworm intestines and harpy frog urine in it?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow. Harry shuddered again and desperately tried not to throw up.

"Do me a favor?" he asked. Blaise crossed his arms but nodded. "Never tell me what's in a potion ever again. I'd really like to believe that I didn't just drink something that had urine in it."

As Harry spoke, his skin began to feel like it was bubbling. As he glanced at himself in the mirror, he began to notice minute changes.

"One every hour, you said?" he asked. Blaise nodded.

"That's the most it could be sped up without having nasty side effects. Though, I'm sure with your face any of those nasty side effects would be an improvement," he drawled.

"Careful there," Harry cautioned. "You're beginning to sound a bit like Malfoy."

Blaise shrugged off his comment. "We lived together for six years. Something was bound to rub off."

"Or someone," Harry chuckled. Blaise glared at him, offended by his crassness.

"And I see Weasley's personality rubbed off on you," he snapped.

"Yes, but there's a difference there," Harry said easily. "Ron is one of my best friends. However, it seemed like you and Malfoy were barely friends during school."

Blaise made a sound of agreement, drawing Harry's curiosity.

"So what kept you away from Malfoy's gang?" he asked. "Was he just as awful in his younger years in the Slytherin common room as he was to the rest of the school?"

The dark-skinned wizard shook his head. "No, nothing like that. I stayed away for two reasons, the first being that I didn't want to associate myself with those deplorable looking creatures he called friends."

"Crabbe and Goyle?" Harry asked knowingly.

"And Parkinson," Blaise confirmed. "Even Malfoy's good looks couldn't make up for the three of them combined. It might just be the Kyth blood in me but I've been resistant to having friends that are considered less than attractive. Kyths like to surround themselves with beauty, after all. The creature forms may not be considered beautiful but most of our human forms tend to be on the attractive side."

Harry snorted at that. "And the second reason?"

Blaise shrugged. "Probably because he knew inwardly that if something ever happened to his mother, his father would most likely end up marrying mine. She would be attracted to the Malfoy fortune and he would want to try and get his hands on a few of the businesses she inherited. After a few years, one of the two would probably be dead."

"So you would have been step-siblings," Harry realized. "Though I really can't see Lucius Malfoy marrying someone with creature blood."

Blaise stiffened at his comment. "The Malfoys don't know about my family," he said. "It's a very closely guarded secret, for good reason."

Despite Hermione constantly telling Harry that he could be a bit dim at times, the wizard could tell when he had crossed the line. "My apologies for any offense," he murmured.

At his apology, Blaise relaxed and waved his words off. The pair sat in the kitchen for the next two hours, talking as they normally did in the afternoons. On the hour mark, Harry would take another potion until before carrying on the conversation. Unlike the times when the effects of the Polyjuice faded from his body naturally, Harry could feel himself changing back into his original body.

"How are you handling it?" Harry asked once the reversal process was complete.

"Handling what?" Blaise asked, as he got up to make dinner. He and Harry had been alternating days to cook once they had learned that both of them were decent in the kitchen.

"Seeing the body of your wife every day while knowing that she's dead," Harry replied in a quiet tone. "It can't be easy."

It took a few minutes for Blaise to respond.

"It still hasn't quite hit me yet, I believe," he finally said. "After all, how can I accept her death and move on when you're constantly there, pretending to be her? I know I should try but sometimes it's easier to believe that she never died and this situation never happened. Instead, I find myself thinking that she just changed and we're finally the family we were meant to be."

"I know I'm the last one to talk, but that doesn't sound healthy," Harry pointed out. Blaise glared at him.

"I know it's not," he answered. "Doesn't stop me from thinking that way at times."

It was clear that Blaise would have said more but Leanne chose that moment to wake up and let out a cry.

"I've got it," Harry said before the other wizard could move. "She just wants a diaper change, right?"

Blaise nodded before turning back to his cooking.


	7. Chapter 7

All too soon, it was lunchtime the next day and Harry was preparing to take a dose of Polyjuice Potion. Professor Flitwick had stopped by for a visit and had been pleasantly surprised to see Harry in his natural form. The meal had been a bit more enjoyable with a third person there to supplement the conversation, causing Harry and Blaise to realize that they were starting to wear on each other after practically being locked in the small house for over a month. What would it be like in the next few months, when the weather got colder and Harry was no longer able to escape to the outside when he felt imprisoned?

Not pleasant, Harry and Blaise learned by the end of their fourth month together. More and more often, the pair had resorted to quarrelling when they saw each other and fights started over the most miniscule of things. A particularly epic fight occurred when both of them tried to change Leanne's diaper and neither would back down.

"It's my turn!" Harry shouted.

"We're not taking turns! You should know by now that you're only responsible for the blood feeds and nothing else. Stop acting like it's your duty to be involved with the rest of her care and stop interfering with my parenting!"

"Duty—Interfering—" Harry sputtered. "Did you ever stop and think that I might actually want to be involved and do more than just the minimum that's required? That I want to do this for reasons more than just feeling like it's my duty?"

"And why would you?" Blaise demanded. "Why do you want to be so involved? She's not your daughter."

Harry froze at the last comment, mouth opening and closing as if it wanted words to come out but nothing was vocalized. After a few seconds, the wizard in female form turned on his heel and stormed out of the nursery, taking care to make sure the door closed quietly despite his anger. Leanne was already crying and didn't need to be disturbed more by a door slamming.

At least Blaise was still aware of his presence, Harry thought over a cup of tea. On some days, it was difficult to be sure. Recently Blaise had taken to ignoring Harry, going as far as to not even look at him. Harry was sure that the only reason Blaise had paid attention to him today was because Leanne was involved and because the Polyjuice had worn off a few hours ago. Lately it seemed like the only time Blaise could stand to be in Harry's presence was when he was in the body of Harry Potter, not Rose Zabini.

While Harry was mulling his thoughts over his drink, Blaise was trapped in his own thoughts. He couldn't understand why Harry was so insistent on sharing Leanne's care equally. The Boy-Who-Lived was only duty bound to handle her blood feedings and Blaise had tried to explain multiple times that he didn't need to do anything else.

So why did Harry still insist?

If Harry truly cared about Leanne and wanted to share the responsibility of taking care of her solely because of that, he would be a good father in the future. After all, if he was going to such lengths to care for a child he had no connection to, Harry would probably do anything to make sure that any children of his own blood were safe and cared for.

A month later, it seemed that most of the fights had passed and the pair of wizards had realized that sometimes silence was the key to keeping the peace in the house. The weather outside was abominable, but now that Harry had staked out a place inside the house he could escape to, he and Blaise were getting on better.

"Tomorrow's Leanne's six-month birthday," Blaise commented after breakfast, having waited until Harry was sufficiently awake to bring up the subject. If there was one thing he had learned after five months of living with the wizard, it was that Harry wasn't capable of carrying on a conversation until after he had been awake for an hour or so. "I trust you remember what that means."

It took a few seconds but then Harry nodded. "Leanne moves from daily blood feedings to weekly ones. Are you sure that it's always six months on the dot?"

Blaise nodded. "Think of it like a werewolf transformation. They transform as soon as the moon is at a certain point in the sky. Leanne will stop accepting daily feedings from the minute she takes her first blood after becoming six months old and start developing beyond eating and sleeping."

"And peeing and pooping," Harry added with a small grin. Blaise made a face at his crudeness but nodded. "I can't wait to see what kind of personality she's going to have."

The other occupant of the house merely rolled his eyes before casting a spell that would wash the dishes. Magic made things very convenient but it wasn't utilized very often by Blaise and Harry, who had started doing things by hand just to  _have_  something to do.

"She'll be perfectly behaved," Blaise said. Harry snorted at that.

"Sure, she will. Because there's such a thing as a perfectly behaved child," he remarked. "Stop deluding yourself."

"It's not a delusion," Blaise said. "She's my daughter and my daughter can do nothing wrong."

"Your daughter does nothing but eat and sleep," Harry pointed out. "Of course you think she's perfectly behaved now but that delusion is going to be shattered as soon as she starts speaking. Mark my words. She'll be stubborn for sure, since both of her parents were."

Blaise glared at Harry and with a flick of his wand, he cancelled the spell that was washing the dishes.

"Just for that, you can wash the dishes," he said before heading into the living room.

Harry shook his head as the dark-skinned wizard left and stood to gather the dishes that were still on the table. Leaving the conversation like that was so typical of Blaise Zabini but to be honest, that was probably one of the things he loved about the man.

A cup clattered to the floor as the words ran through Harry's mind. Loved about the man?  _Loved?_

"What did you break this time?" Blaise called from the other room.

"Nothing," Harry called back and cast a quick  _Reparo_  on the cup that had fallen. In seconds it looked as good as new.

When had he started to love Blaise? Sure, Harry had been finding Blaise attractive over the past few weeks but he had still considered the man a friend and nothing more. Even through their fights, Blaise had still been a friend. When had the friendship turned to romantic attraction?

As Harry absent-mindedly washed the breakfast dishes, he began to realize what was happening with Blaise was similar to what had happened with Ginny. They had been friends for a while and then suddenly, Harry realized one day that his feelings had gone much further than that.

Well crap.

The situation with Ginny had been simple enough, since Harry had been aware that she harbored some romantic feelings for him as well. Some of those feelings still remained between the two of them, which is why they had been able to maintain an on-and-off relationship over the past few years.

With Blaise, it was a little more complicated. It wasn't that Blaise was a fellow wizard, since Harry had no reservations about that. After all, what mattered the most to Harry was the friendship that had formed before the relationship, not the gender or the general attractiveness of a person.

No, what made things complicated was the fact that Harry had no idea how Blaise felt about him. Harry didn't even know if Blaise saw him as Harry and not just Harry Potter in Rose Zabini's body.

Harry also had to take his current body into account. It would be cruel to ask Blaise about his feelings when Harry was still in Rose's body. There would be no way Blaise would be able to give him a straight, honest answer about his feelings until he had spent time with Harry in his wizard form, not just in the body of Rose Zabini. Harry still suspected that Blaise hadn't truly accepted that Rose was dead.

Yeah, it was a lot more complicated this time.

Harry finished washing the dishes and put the thoughts out of his head. There was no use in trying to figure things out now. Maybe in six or seven months, when they were able to leave this house and this situation they were in behind.


	8. Chapter 8

Harry set Leanne down and stared at her sleeping form for a few minutes. He had just finished her first feeding of the day and now he wouldn't have to give her a blood feeding for a week. It was an odd realization.

"She doesn't look any different," he said, hearing Blaise enter the room.

"Give it a week or so. Then you'll really start noticing the changes."

"Have you seen other Kyth children grow up?" Harry asked, turning to Blaise, who nodded.

"I had a younger sister," he said, voice a bit stiff.

"Had?" Harry asked, voice lowering.

"She died of dragon pox when I was nine. She was five at the time."

"That's horrible," Harry said. Blaise didn't reply. Instead, he glanced over at Leanne, making sure that she was content before walking out of the room.

Harry found Blaise in the living room, reading one of the handfuls of books that were scattered around the house.

"You're reading that again?" he asked. "Is that the third time this week?"

Blaise rolled his eyes but kept reading. Harry sighed and glanced around the room. All of the books he had read at least three or four times in the past five months and he really didn't want to read any of them again.

"When is the weekly delivery getting here?" he asked, looking around for other things to do. He and Blaise had taken to getting groceries and other necessities delivered to the house weekly so they didn't have to go into the village and risk being spotted. It had grated on his nerves at first but he could understand the reasoning behind it.

Six more months, Harry forced himself to remember. And then he could go wherever he wanted without feeling like he was putting Leanne at risk.

"In an hour or so," Blaise said. Harry sighed and went into the kitchen, seeing if there was any dinner prep that he could start. He hadn't planned to make anything until after the delivery had come but at this point, he just wanted something to do.

Harry pulled out a cutting board and some of the remaining vegetables that were in the refrigerator and soon fell into the steady rhythm of cutting and dicing, allowing his mind to wander.

The man wondered how Hermione and Ron were doing. They had never gone so long without talking or writing and he hoped that they hadn't taken offense to his sudden disappearance and silence. He doubted it but one never knew.

Harry desperately wanted to ask how Hermione's pregnancy was going and how Ron was coping with the idea of being a father. In a week or so, it would be six months since Harry had found out about the addition to his friends' family and Professor Flitwick had said that Hermione was two months pregnant when she had made the announcement. She would be eight months pregnant by now, only a month or two away from giving birth.

The Gryffindor didn't regret leaving his home or job to help Blaise and Leanne, but he did regret not being there for the birth of Hermione and Ron's first child. He was sure that Mrs. Weasley and all of Ron's siblings were keeping an eye on the pair and making sure that everything was ready for the birth but he felt that he was failing as a friend.

Harry's head jerked up as there was a knock on the door. He walked the few steps and opened up the door, greeting the delivery boy with a small smile. The teenager's face reddened and Harry remembered what he looked like right now. He glanced down at his body before quickly taking the order into the house and shutting the door.

"Blaise, pay the delivery boy," Harry shouted before darting further into the house. He heard Blaise sigh as he passed the living room but he didn't care.

For the next few minutes, Harry locked himself in the bathroom, splashing water on his face to try and calm down. He glanced at his body in the mirror and frowned when he saw Rose's face staring back at him. He had stopped expecting to see his own face weeks ago but there were moments like now when he was keenly reminded that when others looked at him, all they saw was an attractive black woman. The reminder made him uncomfortable.

There was a knock on the bathroom door.

"I'm leaving the bathroom items in the hallway," Blaise said. "Can you put them away when you're done in there?"

Harry nodded and then called out an affirmative when he realized that the other man couldn't see him. When he was sure that Blaise was elsewhere in the house, Harry opened up the bathroom door and grabbed the paper bag.

Toothpaste and a baby toothbrush were put in the cabinet, reminding Harry that Leanne would start teething in the next month or so. Shampoo and soap went into the shower and toilet paper went underneath the sink, along with a new package of pads. Harry's face turned bright red as he handled the pads, still not used to that aspect of his new form. It had been a horrible shock to wake up one morning bleeding from between his legs. It seemed that despite returning to his male form once a week and taking the Polyjuice reversal potions once a month didn't hinder Rose's monthly cycle.

Thankfully there was another two weeks before Harry had to put up with that issue again. It always seemed to come too quickly, making Harry keenly aware of how short a month actually was.

When Harry returned to the kitchen, he was surprised to see a few bottles of wine and a bottle of vodka sitting on the counter.

"What's the occasion?" he asked, gesturing to the alcohol.

"To celebrate today's milestone," Blaise said and that was when Harry realized that the other man had taken over cooking dinner. Harry stared at the Slytherin skeptically. After a few minutes, Blaise sighed and shrugged. "I don't know about you but I really wanted a few drinks."

"It would be nice," Harry agreed, staring at the drinks longingly. "If I have a few, it won't affect Leanne?"

Blaise raised an eyebrow and laughed. "No, it won't. I'm pretty sure any alcohol you drink tonight will be out of your system by next week."

"I keep forgetting," Harry admitted. "It's gotten to be a routine and I don't even think about it anymore."

"It is odd to think about," Blaise agreed. "But it's also exciting."

"I can't wait to hear Leanne's first words," Harry said. "You said that it usually happens in the first week or so?"

Blaise nodded.

"What do you think they'll be?" Harry asked the young father, who shrugged.

"Hopefully nothing mundane like mama or dada," he said. "I have higher expectations for my daughter."

"Like what? Do you want her first word to be floccinaucinihilipilification?" Harry asked. Blaise stared at him for a few seconds before laughing.

"How do you even know that word?" he asked.

"What? You know it?" Harry replied, slightly started. Blaise nodded.

"The act of or habit of describing something as unimportant, of having no value, or being worthless," he recited. "Growing up, I liked to drive my tutors mad by using words that they didn't know. A few of them, especially the Latin based words stuck with me. Now how do you know it?"

"Professor Snape noted in one of my essays that my vocabulary sounded like a toddler's," Harry explained. "I researched a few words to include in my next essay."

"Was he impressed?" Blaise asked. Harry laughed.

"It was Professor Snape," he reminded Blaise. "He took off points the next class for mouthing off, even though it was in writing."

Blaise chuckled.

"Do you need any help?" Harry asked tentatively, moving the bottles of alcohol to the kitchen table.

Blaise shook his head. "You can set the table," he suggested. "Dinner will be ready soon."


	9. Chapter 9

"And then as we were heading home after the wedding, she told me she had written the toasts word for word," Blaise recalled as he swallowed down the last drop of wine in his glass. Harry laughed—a little too loudly he thought but he didn't really care at this point.

Neither man could remember how exactly they had gotten on to the topic of Blaise and Rose's wedding, only that the conversation had started after a few glasses of wine. Harry had lost track of the conversation after a few more glasses of wine and was content to let Blaise keep talking and laugh at everything, even when he was maybe sure that he had heard this story once or twice before.

Or maybe he hadn't. He couldn't remember anymore, not that the conversation was significant.

"Glad Hermione never went that far for her own wedding," Harry interrupted Blaise. "Though, I think she regretted not writing the toasts after hearing mine. It was a disaster."

"Oh, the toasts were still a disaster," Blaise slurred a bit as he spoke up. "Neither the best maid or the man of honor recited anything that she wrote. She was pissed—in more ways than one."

Harry snorted and clapped his hands over his mouth as he giggled. Actually giggled. Blaise laughed at that expression on his face, which only encouraged Harry to laugh even harder. Soon enough the pair of them were slumped over the table, barely able to breathe through their laughter.

"Why did you even marry her?" Harry asked once he had recovered a bit. "She sounds like a bloody nightmare."

"We grew up together," Blaise informed him. "And in our community, it was nearly required. It helped that she was hot."

Harry glanced down at his body once he noticed the not too subtle leers. He laughed again.

"You think I'm hot?" he asked, rubbing his hands up and down his sides, feeling the curves that he was stuck with for the next few days, until the polyjuice wore off. His question made Blaise laugh again and the dark-skinned man got to his feet unsteadily, wrapping his hands around the bottle of vodka as he stood up.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked as Blaise took a couple of steps, swaying as he walked.

"The living room," Blaise announced and walked away with no further explanation. Harry watched him go before he decided that he didn't want to be alone. So he got to his feet and stumbled after Blaise, catching up quickly.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked when he spotted Blaise trying to climb over the back of the couch.

"Don't want to walk around," Blaise said, trying to swing his leg over the back. He missed and tumbled backwards, landing on the floor. Harry cringed as he saw Blaise's head bump against a bookcase.

"You okay?" Harry questioned as he made his way over to the former Slytherin, who made no movement to get up off the floor. He tripped over something—maybe it was a pair of shoes that hadn't been put away yet?—and crawled the last few meters over to his housemate. Harry kneeled over Blaise to see if he was still conscious and was slightly relieved to see dark eyes wide open and a stupid grin on Blaise's face.

"That was fun," the wizard admitted. Harry laughed and tried to sit back but when he moved away, Blaise tugged him forward.

"What?" A whining tone entered Harry's voice but he didn't resist being pulled forward too much. He was starting to feel like if he stood up, he would only fall right back down again.

"Why do I think you're sexy if you're only in a t-shirt and jeans?" Blaise asked as he tugged Harry closer to him. Harry laughed loudly at his question.

"Has it been that long?" he teased, trying to maneuver out of Blaise's grasp but in response, the man's grip on his shirt only tightened.

"Yes," Blaise groaned. "Don't tell me it hasn't been a long time for you too."

"Oh, it definitely has," Harry agreed. "Though I'm not sure how much of that is me and how much of it is the body I'm in."

"Let's test it out, then."

Harry's mouth dried at the suggestion. He licked his lips hesitantly and looked around, suddenly wanting something to drink. Since the bottle of vodka wasn't far away, the wizard stuck in female form reached over and grabbed it. He fumbled with the cap for a few seconds before it came off and he was able to take a large swig from the bottle. He coughed at the burning sensation but took a second drink anyways.

"Okay," Harry agreed, setting the bottle aside. Blaise was struggling to sit up and Harry moved back a little to give him some room.

Once upright, Blaise followed Harry's examples and took a few drinks of vodka before screwing the cap back on and tossing the bottle so that it landed on the other side of the couch. Harry giggled as he heard it land with a hard thud, thinking that it was a good thing that the bottle was made of plastic, not glass.

When Harry glanced back at Blaise, the man was already shrugging out of his shirt. Licking his lips again, this time in anticipation, Harry pulled his t-shirt over his head as well, letting breasts bounce as they were released. Brows furrowed as eyes watched the mounds of flesh and Harry tentatively ran a small, feminine hand over one of them.

Blaise laughed, causing Harry to snap his head up and glare at the man.

"Shut up," he muttered. "I'm still not used to them."

"Feels good though, doesn't it?" Blaise asked, reaching over and rubbing a finger over the breast that Harry wasn't examining. Eyes fluttered closed and Harry heard himself letting out a high-pitched moan of pleasure.

"You can keep doing that," he mumbled and the pressure on the breasts increased. Harry threw his head back and let out another moan, leaning backwards until he was lying on the floor. He felt Blaise moving to straddle him and Harry let out an even louder groan when the movement brought their two groins together.

After of a few minutes of grinding, Harry placed a hand on Blaise's chest and tried to push the wizard away.

"I'm not getting hard," he tried to explain. Blaise snorted and gave Harry an awkward kiss on the corner of his lips and the cheek.

"You don't have the parts," Blaise reminded Harry as he ground their groins together again.

"Oh," Harry replied, not sure of what else he could say. He felt hands tugging on his jeans, opening up the button and pulling down the zipper. Closing his eyes, Harry lifted up his hips to make it easier for Blaise to pull his jeans and underwear off. He hissed when he felt a hand press against the area between his legs, the feel of cold skin sending a shudder up his spine.

"Fuck," Blaise swore. Harry opened his eyes halfway to look up at the wizard.

"That was the plan, I thought," he mumbled.

"Shut up," Blaise grunted as he struggled to undo his pants and push them off of his thighs and legs. "Why are you being so talkative?"

Harry laughed, but that soon stopped when he spotted Blaise's cock. The urge to touch and feel it overcame him and Harry wasn't able to control his hand reaching out.

"Shit," Blaise groaned when he felt a hand wrap around his cock. He hissed and winced when the grip tightened. "Not so hard!"

"Sorry," Harry mumbled and withdrew his hand, bucking up his hips when he felt one of Blaise's fingers rub against his entrance, spreading the natural lubrication around easily. After a few seconds, the fingers pulled away and Blaise positioned himself so that he was in between Harry's legs, encouraging them to wrap around his waist.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Hm, I think so."

While not completely reassuring, those words were enough for Blaise. Harry threw his head back again as he felt Blaise's cock enter him and he bucked his hips again, encouraging the man to keep going.

As the pair moved together, Harry couldn't help but think that everything just felt…off. Not that it didn't feel good—it felt almost wonderful—but there was something that just wasn't quite right.

Harry pushed the thoughts out of his mind as he felt his breathing quicken and his hips start to thrust upward more frequently. He was so close…just a few more thrusts and…

"Rose," came an abrupt whisper.

Harry cursed as he felt Blaise suddenly drop onto him, becoming dead weight. The sudden increase of moisture in their lower halves let Harry know that the other man had orgasmed, reaching completion while Harry was left wanting.

"Bloody wanker," he murmured, pushing Blaise off of his body. He considered finishing himself off but even the idea seemed like it would be too much work. He was too tired, the aftermath of the alcohol starting to hit him all at once. Muttering to himself, Harry reached up toward the couch, where he knew there was a blanket flung over the back. He dragged down the knitted afghan and draped it over his body, before closing his eyes. Sleep sounded amazing right now.

* * *

Blaise groaned when a piercing wail broke through his deep walls of slumber, flinging an arm over his eyes. He sat up and groaned as his head throbbed, signifying the start of a headache that he could only associate with being hung-over. He hadn't felt this bad since his wedding night with Rose.

The wizard reluctantly dragged himself to his feet when he realized that Leanne wasn't going to stop crying. She probably either needed to be fed or changed and that was something he couldn't put off.

"Hush, baby girl," Blaise murmured as he rubbed his eyes and stretching to wake up some more. "Why do you have to be so loud?"

Opening his eyes fully, Blaise took a look at his surroundings, not fully remembering how he had gotten to the living room nor why he was sleeping on the floor instead of the sofa. It wasn't until he nearly stepped on Harry when he started to remember.

"Shit," Blaise muttered, realizing that both he and Harry were naked. "Bloody hell."

Well, at least he didn't have to worry about whether or not they used protection. It would be a few more days until Rose's body was fertile again. Kyth fertility was a strange thing. For six months after the birth, there was no possibility of a Kyth woman getting pregnant, until after the baby's first weekly feeding.

Leanne's wails grew louder and Blaise stepped over Harry. He had only gotten a few steps when he remembered why he was hung-over and why he had been drinking in the first place. Leanne's first weekly feeding had just taken place.

Fuck.

Blaise rested his head against the doorframe as his mind started racing.

Fucking hell.


	10. Chapter 10

Harry grimaced as his eyes fluttered open, not understand why he felt sticky all over. It wasn't until he sat up and his blanket fell down, revealing his naked form that he started to get some inkling of what had happened a few hours prior.

" _Rose."_

Harry shook his head to get rid of the memory. He had to deal with his hangover first before he started feeling guilty for his actions.

Stumbling into the kitchen, Harry blindly felt for the countertops and then the cabinets where he knew there was a store of potions being kept. Finally finding the right cabinet, Harry yanked the door open only to be faced with his next problem—the vials were all the same size and height. There was no way to tell by touch alone which potions were which.

"Where's a wand when you need it," Harry muttered as he felt his way over to the sink, where he could last remember setting his wand down. After a few seconds of fumbling, he finally found his wand by knocking it into the sink. The resounding clatter made Harry's end start to pound.

" _Lumos_ ," Harry muttered and squeezed his eyes shut as the tip of his wand brightened. Now able to see more clearly, the wizard in witch form perused the potions cabinet, frowning when he noticed that there was nothing in there for hangovers. The best he could do at the moment was a mild headache reliever, which Harry downed as soon as he read the label.

Once he felt somewhat more human, Harry realized that he needed to find Blaise. It appeared that the man was already awake and the former Gryffindor felt that he needed to apologize, even if he wasn't completely sure what he was going to apologize for.

Blaise glanced toward the door of the nursery when he heard it open. His jaw clenched tightly when he spotted the figure in the doorframe.

"I don't know why I'm surprised to find you in here," Harry murmured as he entered the room and shut the door once again. It was silent for a few minutes before he spoke up again. "So this is awkward."

"We need to fire call Professor Flitwick, so he can find a healer," Blaise announced.

"A healer? Why? Is Leanne sick?" If the circumstances were any different, Blaise would have been pleased to hear the concern in Harry's voice, showing a type of care that Rose had never really been capable of. Instead, he wanted to laugh at Harry's obliviousness.

"Leanne's fine," Blaise assured Harry. "We need one for you."

"For me? I feel fine."

Blaise rolled his eyes at Harry's protests. "We just had sex," he pointed out.

"So? I don't see how disappointing sex results in us needing to call a healer."

"You thought it was disappointing?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow as he turned to look at Harry fully. For the first time he realized that both of them were still naked.

"We were drunk," Harry stated dryly. "Of course it was disappointing. Drunk sex always is."

Blaise was forced to agree.

"However, I still don't understand why us having sex suddenly means we need to call a healer. The last time I checked, having sex is normal."

"We had unprotected sex," Blaise clarified and sighed when it seemed that Harry still didn't get the point. "I don't know how it's escaped your notice, Potter, but you're currently female. I'm male. Do you know what happens when males and females get together and have unprotected sex? There's a very good hint currently sleeping in this room."

"Piss off," Harry growled out as both his mind and heart began to race. "That shouldn't even be possible. Polyjuice doesn't go that far!"

"Under normal circumstances, no," Blaise agreed. "But as you already clearly know, Kyth hair when mixed with Polyjuice produces some very abnormal results."

"I'm a bloke!" Harry protested. "I can't be pregnant."

"Don't have a panic attack right now," Blaise snapped. "We don't even know if you are yet. I just wanted to call a healer as a precaution." His words went unheard as Harry's breaths continued to quicken and get louder with each passing second. Blaise muttered a few choice words under his breath and reached out to grasp Harry's shoulders. "It's just a precaution," he repeated. "Say it with me—it's just a precaution."

"It's just a precaution," Harry muttered reluctantly. "You better hope that's all it is. I won't be held responsible for my actions if you actually knocked me up."

Blaise tried not to wince. He had heard those words before.

"We should clean up and dressed," he said. "Then I'll give Professor Flitwick a call."

Harry nodded. "I'm going to take a shower," he decided. "Get that healer here fast."

"As fast as I can," Blaise confirmed. "Believe me, the thought of a possible pregnancy is just as frightening for me as it is for you."

"Doubt it," Harry muttered under his breath as he walked away.

Harry gathered up his clothes as he passed the living room and stashed the bottle of vodka in the cabinet above the sink. After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed a dose of Polyjuice, with one of Rose's hairs already included. He needed to take one soon so why not now?

Stepping into the shower did wonders for not only Harry's physical state but also for his mental state. The hot water relaxed his muscles and allowed his mind to wander in ways that it couldn't at any other time.

Unfortunately, this time Harry's mind didn't wander. It was stuck on one track and refused to go elsewhere.

There was a very small possibility that he could be pregnant. Shit. Fuck. Bloody hell.

Was this how every girl felt after she had had sex? Ginny had never let on the few times she and Harry had slept together.

What the hell was he going to do if he actually _was_? Harry knew that he would never purposefully get rid of the child but he had no idea of how to handle actually being pregnant. He had never been around a pregnant woman before.

Harry groaned and rested his head against the shower wall.

"Why do I keep finding myself in these situations?" he whispered to himself. "Why is my life so bloody messed up?"

Unfortunately, Harry didn't have an answer to his questions. With a reluctant sigh, he turned off the water to the shower and proceeded to get ready for what was most likely going to be an awkward appointment with a healer he most likely had never met before.

"Didn't drown then?" Blaise asked when Harry made his appearance.

"Kind of hard to do while taking a shower," came Harry's response. "Did you get a hold of Flitwick?"

Blaise nodded. "Luckily, it's the weekend," he said. "He'll be here after lunch, along with a healer he trusts and knows a few things about Kyth."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as he sat down at the kitchen table but his feeling of relief passed quickly. "We need to talk about last night, don't we?" he asked.

Blaise frowned. "Let's deal with the healer and diagnostic spells first," he said, turning away. "Then we can talk."

"Look, I'm hardly the poster boy for talking about my feelings but don't you feel that it's best to talk about last night now? And not when we possibly have other things to worry about as well?"

"I'm taking a shower," Blaise decided. Harry's jaw dropped at the man's blatant refusal but couldn't stop Blaise in time from leaving the room. With a loud groan, Harry lightly hit his head against the table.

"Brilliant," he muttered. "Absolutely brilliant. This is a bloody nightmare."

* * *

For the next few hours, Blaise and Harry tiptoed around each other, neither quite sure how things stood between them. After Harry's failed attempt to reach out, it seemed to have been decided to wait until after the healer had left before they would actually talk.

The wait was torture. Harry was sure he had checked the floo one hundred times in less than five minutes, waiting for the telltale flare that would bring Professor Flitwick and the healer.

As much as Harry anticipated the arrival, he couldn't stop his heart leaping into his throat when the fireplace finally turned green.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen!" Professor Flitwick declared before he had even stepped out of the fireplace. "Poppy will be coming through in a heartbeat."

"Poppy?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow in slight confusion.

"Madam Pomfrey?" Blaise asked, sounding more shocked than confused. Harry paled at the matron's name and he took a few steps back. It had been a while since he had seen the woman but he still had very clear memories of Madam Pomfrey and the hospital wing at Hogwarts. However, before he could react more, the fireplace flared again and out marched Poppy Pomfrey, a medicine bag in hand. As she stepped out of the fireplace, her eyes landed on Harry and she gave him a dry smile.

"Mr. Potter, you've definitely changed since the last time I saw you," she said. Harry flushed and stuttered out a few nonsensical things. "Now, what seems to be the problem? Filius said that you thought it was urgent?"

Harry glared at Blaise, silently ordering him to explain the situation. Blaise swallowed nervously before starting.

"Urgent in regards to our peace of mind," he said. "My daughter Leanne turned six months old yesterday and we decided to celebrate. Alcohol was involved and one thing led to another and now…we would like a pregnancy test." As Blaise was speaking, Harry's flush continually increased. It reached an all time high when Madam Pomfrey eyed him up and sighed.

"Only you, Mr. Potter," she tutted. "This happened over the night? It hasn't been twenty-four hours yet?" Harry and Blaise shook their heads in unison. "Well, then. That certainly makes things a bit more complicated but it's not impossible. I'll have to come back in a week or two to double check the results but usually these diagnostics done within the first day are about seventy-five percent accurate."

"So the results could be wrong?" Harry asked hopefully, just in case there was a positive result. Madam Pomfrey gave him a long look.

"It's possible but don't expect it," she said. "You of all people shouldn't expect it, Mr. Potter. Knowing your luck, this first answer will be my final answer."

Harry chewed the inside of his cheek, knowing that she was right. When had things ever worked out in his favor like that?

"We'll do the diagnostics and then we'll go from there," Madam Pomfrey decided. "Hopefully this will be a quick visit but if it's not…" The matron didn't finish her sentence and Harry's stomach twisted nervously.

At Madam Pomfrey's direction, Harry laid down on the couch, trying to ignore the feeling of Blaise and Professor Flitwick's gazes on him or the feeling of a wand hovering above his abdomen.

After a minute or two, Madam Pomfrey let out a tsk. Harry's pulse quickened. That sound never brought good news.

"It seems we have more to talk about than I originally thought," Poppy Pomfrey announced. "A lot more."


	11. Chapter 11

"What do you mean?" Blaise asked, noticing that the witch had adopted a disapproving frown. "What's the result of the test? Is she—sorry, he—pregnant?"

Madam Pomfrey sighed. "At this point, the tests do point toward a baby," she announced reluctantly. "And as I said, I'll be coming back within a week to determine whether this was a false positive or not."

Harry's heart sank as his hands came to rest lightly over his stomach and abdomen. He refused to look at Blaise to see how the other man was reacting.

"However, I'm not sure if this fetus will continue to be viable or not," Madam Pomfrey continued. "Disregarding the involvement of Polyjuice, there's the matter of Rose Zabini's previous abortions."

Harry's head snapped toward Blaise. The former Slytherin looked horrified and his skin was paling quickly.

"Abortions?" Blaise demanded in a weak tone. "What abortions?"

"There were two of them." Poppy's voice had gentled and she reached out a hand to steady Blaise as he went to sit on the couch, next to Harry.

"She told me they were miscarriages," Blaise murmured weakly. "That she had fallen or that it was stress that caused the miscarriages."

"The tests don't lie," Madam Pomfrey said. "The potions and spells meant for abortions leave very distinct scars and make it harder for women to keep a pregnancy later on. From a healer's standpoint, this is a very worrying pregnancy."

Harry's hand hung over Blaise's, unsure if he should comfort his housemate or not. There was a very real possibility that the man would lash out at him, just because he looked like Rose at the current moment.

"She never acted like she didn't want children," Blaise said, moving his hand away from Harry's and clenching his hands into fists. "She thought the pregnancies were inconveniences, but she never hinted about considering abortion."

"As I never met the young lady, I can't say anything about her mental state or her reasons for aborting the babies. All I can say is that they happened and that, along with the caesarean section that was performed, threaten the possibility of the baby being born naturally."

"What does the caesarean have anything to do with this?" Blaise asked, anger starting to color her voice. "We were told that the procedure is perfectly safe!"

"It is," Madam Pomfrey soothed him. "The caesarean just becomes a problem later on in the pregnancy. Normally once a caesarean is performed, it hinders the possibility of any natural or home births happening during future pregnancies. While I encourage a natural birth, in this case I'd strongly encourage a caesarean. There's too many unknowns right now."

"What's a caesarean?" Harry asked.

"A procedure that's becoming increasingly popular as the years go by," Madam Pomfrey said with a slightly disapproving frown. "Instead of delivering the baby naturally through the birth canal, there's the option of making incisions into the abdomen and uterus and delivering the baby that way."

Harry glanced at his stomach, where he could remember seeing a faded scar. "So that's where that scar came from," he muttered. Apparently it wasn't as quiet as he thought because both Blaise and Madam Pomfrey cracked small smiles.

"You've traded one scar for another, Mr. Potter," the medi-witch stated.

"So if there is going to be a baby, what do you recommend?" Harry asked the matron, though he was looking at Blaise as he spoke.

"It depends on if you want to try and keep the fetus," Madam Pomfrey said carefully. Blaise's fingers dug into the couch as she spoke. "That would be your decision, Mr. Potter, since you will be the one responsible for giving birth if it gets to that point."

"Absolutely," Harry said automatically and Blaise relaxed slightly, letting out a small sigh. "I would never consider…the other option."

Madam Pomfrey didn't seem surprised by his decision.

"Then, my first recommendation would be regular doses of Polyjuice Potion—daily, if possible. I know the dose life is extended due to the unique nature of Kyth blood but there shouldn't be any chance of you changing back. The fetus wouldn't survive that. I can get you the necessary amounts of Polyjuice Potion."

"That would be very helpful," Harry said as Blaise nodded.

"Madam Pomfrey, are there any long-term consequences of taking Polyjuice on so regular a basis, for either the baby or for Mr. Potter?" Professor Flitwick asked. Harry glanced at the man, startled. He had forgotten that the Charms professor was still around.

"As far as I know, there should be no long-term effects. However, nothing like this has ever happened before, from what I'm aware of. There's a few rumors about women who have used Polyjuice while pregnant to become other women but I've never known anyone personally who has. This is a truly unique situation to be witnessing."

"That's me, Harry Potter, the man who can never be normal, no matter how hard I try," Harry muttered under his breath.

"Don't try so hard then," Madam Pomfrey said. "Maybe once you stop trying, it'll happen and you'll learn how boring being normal can be."

"I can't wait," Harry replied dryly.

"I'll check in every week," Madam Pomfrey decided. "And leave you with my emergency floo address so you can contact me at any time if something happens. Once you get further along, we'll start talking about when would be a good time to perform the caesarean. Since we know the date of conception, that makes determining a date much easier."

"When are you thinking?" Harry asked.

"As far along as we can make it," Madam Pomfrey said. "Preferably into the tenth month. You'd have to go to St. Mungo's if it becomes necessary to perform it before the thirty-seventh week since I don't have the equipment to handle any complications. Actually, you'll probably have to go to St. Mungo's either way."

"Isn't there any other way?" Harry pleaded. "The Daily Prophet is bound to find out if we go there."

"Out of country is an option," Professor Flitwick said. "Though I don't know what harm long distance floo or apparation could do to the baby."

"We'd have to travel through a medical floo path," Madam Pomfrey said. "No apparation unless there's no other option, which includes walking. I'd rather you walk one hundred kilometers than apparate that distance, even at this early stage."

Harry cringed as Madam Pomfrey turned away, gathering her things together and grabbing a pinch of floo powder.

"I'll see you next week," the matron promised, setting a card on the mantle above the fireplace.

Watching her leave, Professor Flitwick cleared his throat.

"Yes, that's probably my cue to leave," he said. "Should I assume that you'll be extending your stay here?"

"Yes," Blaise and Harry said together. Neither wanted to leave. Not only was it still a risk that Leanne's maternal grandparents would take her away if they found Blaise but now leaving would pose a risk as well to the unborn child inside of Harry. This house had become their sanctuary, no matter how trapping it had seemed the first few weeks.

"We'll stay until the baby is born at the very least," Blaise decided. Professor Flitwick gave them a bright smile before taking a bit of floo powder and disappearing to Hogwarts.

"You seem confident that this baby will be born with no problems," Harry said quietly once it was just him and Blaise.

"I know I shouldn't," Blaise admitted. "But I want this child. I wanted a lot of children and now I've found out that I was lucky to have Leanne at all and the only reason for that is because I never left Rose alone long enough for her to get rid of Leanne."

"I never knew anyone could be capable of doing that," Harry whispered, suppressing a shiver.

"Neither did I," Blaise agreed, voice sounding hollow.

The pair sat in silence for a few minutes before Harry decided to bring up the subject they had avoided talking about until now.

"We still need to discuss what got us into this situation in the first place," he said.

"The drinking or the sex?" Blaise asked, raising an eyebrow.

"The sex. We need to figure out what that means," Harry said firmly. "Because if we don't, that's going to bring up a lot of issues in the future."

Blaise gave a heavy sigh. "I don't know," he said, hanging his head in his hands. "I really don't know what was going through my mind."

"Was it just because of the body I'm in?" Harry pushed. "Because it's Rose's body?"

"I don't know!" Blaise snapped. "I miss my wife and I'll always find her attractive, with or without alcohol. Despite that, I'll admit I prefer your personality over hers any day because she could be shallow and self-absorbed most of the time. I can't say what I'm attracted to more, mostly because being with a man never crossed my mind. I also can't say if I'm attracted to your personality right now because you're the only one I ever see. Ask me in a year or so, when we get out of this house and when you no longer look like my dead wife. Maybe then I can give you some answers!"

Once Blaise's outburst was over, Harry found himself not knowing how to respond.

"This has been a lot harder for you than you've been letting on," he finally said.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "You think?" he snapped. "I can wake up and start my day thinking everything's normal and the past few months haven't happened and then you go and say something that's so un-Rose-like that I'm forced to realize that you're not Rose at all, you're someone else just inhabiting my wife's body so my child can survive. Everything will be just fine and then my mind wanders and while I'm staring straight at you, I'm remembering seeing and identifying Rose at the morgue, her body practically destroyed by that train. I wonder every single day how I'm going to tell Leanne when she's older what her mother did, how she died and how Leanne nearly died and would have if it wasn't for someone deciding to impersonate her mother. I'm thankful every single day that you decided to take Polyjuice that day and become Rose but I hate the mess that this has become. For every thought and emotion that runs through my body, there's another one that's in direct conflict with it. Nothing about these past few months has been easy."

The man took a few deep breaths, refusing to stare at Harry, who sat awkwardly.

"I'm sorry?" he said, mostly to break the silence.

Blaise rolled his eyes. "It's not your fault," he said. "I just have horrible luck it seems."

"I wouldn't say your luck has been completely horrible," Harry replied. "True, most of it has been, but you still have Leanne and you have another child on the way. It may not be the most ideal circumstances, but you have them."

"For now," Blaise said.

"For now?" Harry repeated, head tilting in slight confusion.

Blaise was silent for a minute and Harry had almost given up hope on getting an answer out of the dark-skinned man before,

"Has your boggart changed at all since third year, when it became well known that it was a dementor?"

"I haven't run into one since the war but I imagine not," Harry said. "Why?"

"Mine always used to be a Kyth, hinting that what I feared most was my bloodline being revealed. Natural, since the Kyth population used to be hunted. I suspect it's changed now since every single night I have nightmares about Leanne being taken away from me."

Green eyes widened when Harry realized what Blaise was trying to say.

"I won't take this child away from you," he promised immediately but he spotted a flicker in Blaise's eyes that revealed that the other man didn't truly believe him. Harry would have continued to make promises that he fully intended to keep but he was cut off by a loud screech.

"DADDY, PICK UP!"

Both Blaise and Harry's eyes widened and Blaise quickly got to his feet. Harry was close behind him.

"Was that…?" he asked in slight surprise.

"Leanne's first words," Blaise confirmed.


End file.
